In Extremis: Ch. 14 -conclusion
The good news is that the cops found my bike and it's mostly in good shape!
The bad news is that this is the last fanfic I'll be writing for a bit, as I need to focus my attention elsewhere for the next little while.
By sheer word count, I belive that this has been one of the most productive three months I've *ever* had as a writer, and yes, it's 'just' fanfic, but hey, it's words on paper, and fairly decent ones, I'd say.
At least I hope that's what you think, those of you who are still with me.
And now for the heartwarming conclusion ...
Title: In Extremis
Author: Taylor Dancinghands -taylor@willendorphians.com
Characters: Rodney McKay/Radek Zelenka
Category: slash, established relationship, Radek Angst
Rating: 'PG-17'
Archive: Generally yes, but please let me know where
Summary: Rodney's got himself in a bit of a bad spot, and only Radek can get him out.
How far will he go, and how will he face himself afterwards?
Spoilers/Season: none really. post season 2?
Author's notes: This story could be said to be a sequel of sorts to 'Discorporate', and so I've decided to make it number 2 in what will hopefully become a series that I'm now calling "The Angsty & Amorous Adventures of Rodney & Radek" or the A&AAofR&R.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will, not claiming to. Just wanna play with 'em a little. Can't I, can't I, huh?
In Extremis
by Taylor Dancinghands
Back to Ch. 13
XIV. The World Awaits
They woke each other up with their nightmares some hours later, as the faint, gray light of predawn shone in through Radek's windows.
It was the dead, accusing eyes of the soldier he'd shot that haunted Radek's sleep, but it was Rodney's pained and terrified cry, as he'd relived his own torments, that woke Radek and freed him from the grip of his nightmare. It was the heavy sob that forced itself from Radek's throat as he woke that broke Rodney's dream, and in only moments Radek had turned to face Rodney, to bury his face in Rodney's shoulder as he wept, and Rodney had pulled Radek in to hold him tight in his trembling arms.
As he lay in the comfort of Rodney's close embrace, waiting for his tears to abate once again, it occurred to Radek to wonder who was standing guard outside his quarters tonight. What had earlier seemed like a restriction, trapping him in his own quarters, now seemed protective, making him feel safe. He knew, without having to ask, that Rodney had secured all the time off that the both of them might need, and the presence of a trusted friend keeping watch outside meant that they would most definitely not be disturbed for any reason (barring a real emergency). It was that sense of safety, and of being protected, both by Rodney's strong arms and by the watchful presence of trusted friends that permeated Radek's thoughts as he finally drifted off to sleep again, even as the full light of the new day came to filter in to his room.
The sun was high in the sky when they woke again, both feeling more well rested then they had in some time. They committed the outrageous extravagance of pouring out all the coffee that Rodney had made the day before, which they had not drunk and which had sat on the burner all night, and made a fresh pot. They breakfasted on food bars and fresh coffee and then Rodney went to have a brief chat with whoever was guarding his door (which at the moment was Teyla), just to let them know that things were going well, and that Radek was doing better.
"I must find some way to thank members of your team for keeping watch over us," Radek remarked when Rodney returned. "I am coming to appreciate very much that they are there."
"Not like they had anything else to do, what with me being laid up," Rodney shrugged, "but I'm glad you appreciate them. I thought it might have been a mistake at first."
"No," Radek reassured him, laying a hand on Rodney's shoulder, "you did the right thing, even if I did not think so to begin with."
There was a momentary flash of anxiety behind Rodney's eyes and Radek knew that he was recalling Radek's moment at the balcony yesterday. Radek wished with all his heart that there was some way to let Rodney forget that moment, but he did not know how.
Radek spent the rest of that day, and the better part of the next, dictating his report about his experiences on Pretana, to Rodney, who captured all faithfully with paper and pen (this had been Heightmeyer's idea, he explained). It was slow going and the recollections were painful and reduced him to tears again and again, but Rodney's calm and supportive presence made it bearable. As unpleasant as it was to walk through those memories, Radek could see how processing them in this manner, with Rodney's assistance, helped to order the emotional turmoil in his mind and gradually restore it to the fine thinking and problem solving machine that it had been previously.
Rodney's team surprised them both with a fairly sumptuous dinner that evening, only staying long enough to deliver the food and then depart. The number and type of delicacies that had been included gave an indication of how many of their fellow residents in the Ancient city wished to show their support and concern, and both Radek and Rodney were frankly touched. They enjoyed the meal immensely, retired to bed early and did not get around to actually sleeping for many hours.
If Radek dreamt at all that night he never knew it, but Rodney dreamt that he had watched Radek actually go over the railing that afternoon, and woke Radek, crying his name aloud with such despair and anguish that it all but broke Radek's heart. He'd held his weeping lover in his arms for hours, quietly assuring him over and over again that he would *never* let anything like that happen, that he wouldn't have let it happen then, and that he'd never, ever do such a thing to Rodney.
They slept late again the next day and woke with increasing respect for the healing power of sleep. The previous night's events had put in Radek's mind the idea that some reciprocity might be called for on his part and so after breakfast he asked Ronon, who was keeping watch that morning, to have someone bring them a hard copy of Rodney's report. He spent the rest of the morning working on his own report with Rodney, and since he'd gotten to the part where he and Rodney had been together it went a little easier.
Sheppard showed up with Rodney's report around lunchtime and so Radek took a break from his own report and sat down to read it after he and Rodney had finished their midday meal. Radek found himself a spot on the couch with Rodney snuggled up at his side, where he could peer up from time to time and could see what part of his narrative Radek had gotten to. Radek had to pull Rodney close and hold him tight as he read of how he'd been tortured, but Rodney had not dwelt on details here, and had moved on quickly.
It was touching to read how astonished Rodney had been when he'd appeared outside his cell, and fascinating to read Rodney's description of their final flight across the open cavern. Rodney never once referred to Radek's actions as killing, but as protecting, as preventing them from coming to harm, or clearing a path. Nowhere in his report was there a sense of the sheer carnage that Radek felt himself responsible for. Rodney's accounts of Radek's injury, and how he'd managed to reload Radek's P90 one-handed were, like Radek's own, understated and almost clinical in their detachment. Naturally Radek knew better, and wondered how easily Dr. Weir would be able to read between the lines of his own report.
Radek set the report aside when he finished, turning to Rodney to meet his gaze frankly.
"In all the time since we have returned from Pretana," he said, reaching out to take Rodney's hand, "it has been you worrying about and caring for me, and yet *you* are the one who has been tortured. I would not want you to think that I had forgotten that."
Rodney shrugged, squeezing the hand that held his. "Actually it's been good to have something else … someone else to focus on. Helping you means I don't have to think so much about what … what happened to me." He gave a faint, self effacing smile, then dropped his gaze.
"Can you tell me how it is going with you, Rodney?" Radek asked quietly after a moment.
Rodney gave a little sigh, looking up at Radek eventually to answer. "Well … I'm not anticipating an unbroken night's sleep anytime soon," he said apologetically," but you're helping … lots."
"I'm glad," Radek answered. "Tell me how else I can help you?"
Rodney looked down at their joined hands, trying not to let Radek see the troubled expression on his face.
"I know you wish you didn't have to kill all those people," Rodney said at last. "I know you feel really bad about the poor sap you had to shoot in the head, but here's the thing. I don't know if he was one of the guys getting a kick out of holding a piece of red hot metal to my skin until I could smell it burning, but he didn't try and stop it either. I'm really sorry you had to be one the to shoot that bastard, but I'm not sorry he's dead. I'm not sorry any of them are dead."
When Radek leaned forward to fold Rodney into his arms he could feel Rodney actually shaking, whether from the horror of his memories were from the fear of offending Radek, he could not tell. Perhaps it was both. In either case Radek could not but hold his lover close and whisper what comforts he could.
"They will never hurt you again, milaku. Never," he murmured. "Someone will always come for you, even if it must be me."
Rodney's trembling diminished after a little, and he drew back to kiss Radek lightly on the lips.
"In truth," Radek said finally," I do not feel so differently. I do not think I would feel such distress if it was Colonel Sheppard who had done the killing, even if I had been present and seen everything just as I did. Does that make me a hypocrite, I wonder?"
Rodney regarded him with the profoundest affection, reaching up to lay his good hand on Radek's cheek. "No," he said, shaking his head slowly, "no, that just makes you a gentle soul, and I'd never want that to change. Ever."
They brought their 'in-house retreat' to an end late the next day, but only went as far as Rodney's quarters to retrieve their laptops and re-transcribe Radek's report. This time it was Rodney reading his own terrifying, left handed handwriting and Radek typing the words into the document he would e-mail to Dr. Weir.
This also served as an interesting distancing exercise, and having Rodney's voice reading the words he chosen to describe what had happened helped Radek gained a new, less disturbing perspective on those events. He sent the report that evening, after dinner, and had an e-mail back from Dr. Weir before he went to bed, saying that she'd like to meet with him the next morning.
"You ready?" Rodney asked, as they settled into his orthopedic mattressed bed that night.
"I am, milaku," he said, kissing Rodney's fingertips, "and I am more than ready to return to work as well."
His resolve and confidence were still with him when Radek will the next morning, but he felt them both tested as he stood outside Dr. Weir's office, waiting for their meeting. It was when he recalled her earlier talk of medals that Radek began to feel worried, but happily she made no mention of them as they sat down to discuss Radek's report. It was Radek himself who ended up broaching the subject, after they had finished going over what he'd written, but she assured him that she'd tabled the idea.
"After I'd thought about it for a while," she told him, "I began to realize what an enormous political can of worms I'd be opening, so you're off the hook."
"I must confess that this is good to hear," said Radek with a relieved smile.
Elizabeth nodded, answering his smile with one of her own. "I rather thought you'd say something like that, but I wanted you to know that I still think that what you did was really terribly courageous. And I don't believe that I'm the only person who thinks so."
Radek stared down at his lap but more out of reticence than real discomfort. "Do you make no distinction between courage and desperation, Dr. Weir?" he asked.
"I'd say that desperation often inspires people who might not have ever thought of themselves as courageous to do very courageous things," she answered diplomatically.
Radek answered her with a wry smile. "It is my experience that desperation leads to desperate acts," he said, "If one is lucky and the desperate act succeeds, then one is called a 'hero'. If, on the other hand, one is less fortunate, then it is a 'tragedy' or 'disaster' and one may be called a fool, or one may end up dead. Is only a matter of good or bad fortune, I fear."
"And you think that the two of you were just … lucky?" Dr. Weir asked, clearly implying that she thought differently.
"Very lucky," answered Radek, "also very foolish, and very, *very* desperate. I do not think, really, that I would have done what I did for anyone else. That is not what I would call courage."
Radek saw in Elizabeth Weir's green eyes and piercing gaze a seldom revealed wisdom, and she reached across her desk to lay her hand over his.
"No," she said quietly, "that's what I'd call love. What I'd call courage is when I see someone who continues to live by his convictions, in spite of everything happening around him, and when I see two people willing to take the enormous risk of caring for each other in an environment that's overtly hostile to such sentiments on a variety of levels. That's what I'd call courage."
Radek was back to staring down at his lap again. "You seem quite determined," he said after a moment, "to see me as a brave man, in spite of my best efforts."
"Your secrets are safe with me, Dr. Zelenka," she said sympathetically, "all of them. Don't worry."
And Radek wasn't worried, as he left Dr. Weir's office, in part because his relationship with Rodney had been something of an open secret from its very inception, and also because he and Rodney were both civilians, arguably the most indispensable civilians on Atlantis. Truth be told, he'd have been more worried about being known as a pacifist. In some respects it was nearly as likely to raise the ire of some of the military types as his preference in bed partners, and the two together, if known, could possibly prove deadly. He hadn't mentioned this in his report, however, and Rodney was the only person on Atlantis with whom he'd discussed his feelings in this regard.
Standing on the balcony outside Dr. Weir's office, overlooking the gate room that lay at the heart of the city, his city, Radek wondered if people *would* think of him differently, now that his exploits on Pretana were widely known. He didn't know, and he wasn't sure if he cared, because the one person whose opinion he didn't care about, more than anyone else's, didn't seem to think any differently about him at all.
Rodney McKay had seen him commit horrendous acts of violence, had heard him confess to be a pacifist, and neither of these things seemed to have changed the way Rodney thought of him at all. When he himself had not understood who he was, or how he could believe as he did and yet do what he had done, Rodney remained unsurprised, somehow seeing no contradictions. Radek still didn't really understand, but had decided that he could take himself on faith for now.
After all, if he ever lost himself again, he knew now for certain that Rodney would be able to find him, however far he had wandered, and bring him home once more.
=FIN=
© 2006 Taylor Dancinghands
***************
Whew!
Hope it was all worth it!
And now I will be taking a break from fanfic for a bit, as I promised to dedicate myself to my original stuff when the fall rains start, and they have.
I do have some challange ideas I may throw out at some point, and I will, of course, be reading, reading reading, any and all Rodney/Radek stuff I can find.
It's quite likely that I will produce one more fanfic over the winter holidays (I've got several ideas brewing), but other than that my writing time must be dedicated to my first novel, so that I'll ever actually get the thing done.
Assuming my life allows it, the fanfic muse will be let out to play for the summer again next year, and hopefully it will be as productive as this one!
T.D.
The bad news is that this is the last fanfic I'll be writing for a bit, as I need to focus my attention elsewhere for the next little while.
By sheer word count, I belive that this has been one of the most productive three months I've *ever* had as a writer, and yes, it's 'just' fanfic, but hey, it's words on paper, and fairly decent ones, I'd say.
At least I hope that's what you think, those of you who are still with me.
And now for the heartwarming conclusion ...
Title: In Extremis
Author: Taylor Dancinghands -taylor@willendorphians.com
Characters: Rodney McKay/Radek Zelenka
Category: slash, established relationship, Radek Angst
Rating: 'PG-17'
Archive: Generally yes, but please let me know where
Summary: Rodney's got himself in a bit of a bad spot, and only Radek can get him out.
How far will he go, and how will he face himself afterwards?
Spoilers/Season: none really. post season 2?
Author's notes: This story could be said to be a sequel of sorts to 'Discorporate', and so I've decided to make it number 2 in what will hopefully become a series that I'm now calling "The Angsty & Amorous Adventures of Rodney & Radek" or the A&AAofR&R.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will, not claiming to. Just wanna play with 'em a little. Can't I, can't I, huh?
In Extremis
by Taylor Dancinghands
Back to Ch. 13
XIV. The World Awaits
They woke each other up with their nightmares some hours later, as the faint, gray light of predawn shone in through Radek's windows.
It was the dead, accusing eyes of the soldier he'd shot that haunted Radek's sleep, but it was Rodney's pained and terrified cry, as he'd relived his own torments, that woke Radek and freed him from the grip of his nightmare. It was the heavy sob that forced itself from Radek's throat as he woke that broke Rodney's dream, and in only moments Radek had turned to face Rodney, to bury his face in Rodney's shoulder as he wept, and Rodney had pulled Radek in to hold him tight in his trembling arms.
As he lay in the comfort of Rodney's close embrace, waiting for his tears to abate once again, it occurred to Radek to wonder who was standing guard outside his quarters tonight. What had earlier seemed like a restriction, trapping him in his own quarters, now seemed protective, making him feel safe. He knew, without having to ask, that Rodney had secured all the time off that the both of them might need, and the presence of a trusted friend keeping watch outside meant that they would most definitely not be disturbed for any reason (barring a real emergency). It was that sense of safety, and of being protected, both by Rodney's strong arms and by the watchful presence of trusted friends that permeated Radek's thoughts as he finally drifted off to sleep again, even as the full light of the new day came to filter in to his room.
The sun was high in the sky when they woke again, both feeling more well rested then they had in some time. They committed the outrageous extravagance of pouring out all the coffee that Rodney had made the day before, which they had not drunk and which had sat on the burner all night, and made a fresh pot. They breakfasted on food bars and fresh coffee and then Rodney went to have a brief chat with whoever was guarding his door (which at the moment was Teyla), just to let them know that things were going well, and that Radek was doing better.
"I must find some way to thank members of your team for keeping watch over us," Radek remarked when Rodney returned. "I am coming to appreciate very much that they are there."
"Not like they had anything else to do, what with me being laid up," Rodney shrugged, "but I'm glad you appreciate them. I thought it might have been a mistake at first."
"No," Radek reassured him, laying a hand on Rodney's shoulder, "you did the right thing, even if I did not think so to begin with."
There was a momentary flash of anxiety behind Rodney's eyes and Radek knew that he was recalling Radek's moment at the balcony yesterday. Radek wished with all his heart that there was some way to let Rodney forget that moment, but he did not know how.
Radek spent the rest of that day, and the better part of the next, dictating his report about his experiences on Pretana, to Rodney, who captured all faithfully with paper and pen (this had been Heightmeyer's idea, he explained). It was slow going and the recollections were painful and reduced him to tears again and again, but Rodney's calm and supportive presence made it bearable. As unpleasant as it was to walk through those memories, Radek could see how processing them in this manner, with Rodney's assistance, helped to order the emotional turmoil in his mind and gradually restore it to the fine thinking and problem solving machine that it had been previously.
Rodney's team surprised them both with a fairly sumptuous dinner that evening, only staying long enough to deliver the food and then depart. The number and type of delicacies that had been included gave an indication of how many of their fellow residents in the Ancient city wished to show their support and concern, and both Radek and Rodney were frankly touched. They enjoyed the meal immensely, retired to bed early and did not get around to actually sleeping for many hours.
If Radek dreamt at all that night he never knew it, but Rodney dreamt that he had watched Radek actually go over the railing that afternoon, and woke Radek, crying his name aloud with such despair and anguish that it all but broke Radek's heart. He'd held his weeping lover in his arms for hours, quietly assuring him over and over again that he would *never* let anything like that happen, that he wouldn't have let it happen then, and that he'd never, ever do such a thing to Rodney.
They slept late again the next day and woke with increasing respect for the healing power of sleep. The previous night's events had put in Radek's mind the idea that some reciprocity might be called for on his part and so after breakfast he asked Ronon, who was keeping watch that morning, to have someone bring them a hard copy of Rodney's report. He spent the rest of the morning working on his own report with Rodney, and since he'd gotten to the part where he and Rodney had been together it went a little easier.
Sheppard showed up with Rodney's report around lunchtime and so Radek took a break from his own report and sat down to read it after he and Rodney had finished their midday meal. Radek found himself a spot on the couch with Rodney snuggled up at his side, where he could peer up from time to time and could see what part of his narrative Radek had gotten to. Radek had to pull Rodney close and hold him tight as he read of how he'd been tortured, but Rodney had not dwelt on details here, and had moved on quickly.
It was touching to read how astonished Rodney had been when he'd appeared outside his cell, and fascinating to read Rodney's description of their final flight across the open cavern. Rodney never once referred to Radek's actions as killing, but as protecting, as preventing them from coming to harm, or clearing a path. Nowhere in his report was there a sense of the sheer carnage that Radek felt himself responsible for. Rodney's accounts of Radek's injury, and how he'd managed to reload Radek's P90 one-handed were, like Radek's own, understated and almost clinical in their detachment. Naturally Radek knew better, and wondered how easily Dr. Weir would be able to read between the lines of his own report.
Radek set the report aside when he finished, turning to Rodney to meet his gaze frankly.
"In all the time since we have returned from Pretana," he said, reaching out to take Rodney's hand, "it has been you worrying about and caring for me, and yet *you* are the one who has been tortured. I would not want you to think that I had forgotten that."
Rodney shrugged, squeezing the hand that held his. "Actually it's been good to have something else … someone else to focus on. Helping you means I don't have to think so much about what … what happened to me." He gave a faint, self effacing smile, then dropped his gaze.
"Can you tell me how it is going with you, Rodney?" Radek asked quietly after a moment.
Rodney gave a little sigh, looking up at Radek eventually to answer. "Well … I'm not anticipating an unbroken night's sleep anytime soon," he said apologetically," but you're helping … lots."
"I'm glad," Radek answered. "Tell me how else I can help you?"
Rodney looked down at their joined hands, trying not to let Radek see the troubled expression on his face.
"I know you wish you didn't have to kill all those people," Rodney said at last. "I know you feel really bad about the poor sap you had to shoot in the head, but here's the thing. I don't know if he was one of the guys getting a kick out of holding a piece of red hot metal to my skin until I could smell it burning, but he didn't try and stop it either. I'm really sorry you had to be one the to shoot that bastard, but I'm not sorry he's dead. I'm not sorry any of them are dead."
When Radek leaned forward to fold Rodney into his arms he could feel Rodney actually shaking, whether from the horror of his memories were from the fear of offending Radek, he could not tell. Perhaps it was both. In either case Radek could not but hold his lover close and whisper what comforts he could.
"They will never hurt you again, milaku. Never," he murmured. "Someone will always come for you, even if it must be me."
Rodney's trembling diminished after a little, and he drew back to kiss Radek lightly on the lips.
"In truth," Radek said finally," I do not feel so differently. I do not think I would feel such distress if it was Colonel Sheppard who had done the killing, even if I had been present and seen everything just as I did. Does that make me a hypocrite, I wonder?"
Rodney regarded him with the profoundest affection, reaching up to lay his good hand on Radek's cheek. "No," he said, shaking his head slowly, "no, that just makes you a gentle soul, and I'd never want that to change. Ever."
They brought their 'in-house retreat' to an end late the next day, but only went as far as Rodney's quarters to retrieve their laptops and re-transcribe Radek's report. This time it was Rodney reading his own terrifying, left handed handwriting and Radek typing the words into the document he would e-mail to Dr. Weir.
This also served as an interesting distancing exercise, and having Rodney's voice reading the words he chosen to describe what had happened helped Radek gained a new, less disturbing perspective on those events. He sent the report that evening, after dinner, and had an e-mail back from Dr. Weir before he went to bed, saying that she'd like to meet with him the next morning.
"You ready?" Rodney asked, as they settled into his orthopedic mattressed bed that night.
"I am, milaku," he said, kissing Rodney's fingertips, "and I am more than ready to return to work as well."
His resolve and confidence were still with him when Radek will the next morning, but he felt them both tested as he stood outside Dr. Weir's office, waiting for their meeting. It was when he recalled her earlier talk of medals that Radek began to feel worried, but happily she made no mention of them as they sat down to discuss Radek's report. It was Radek himself who ended up broaching the subject, after they had finished going over what he'd written, but she assured him that she'd tabled the idea.
"After I'd thought about it for a while," she told him, "I began to realize what an enormous political can of worms I'd be opening, so you're off the hook."
"I must confess that this is good to hear," said Radek with a relieved smile.
Elizabeth nodded, answering his smile with one of her own. "I rather thought you'd say something like that, but I wanted you to know that I still think that what you did was really terribly courageous. And I don't believe that I'm the only person who thinks so."
Radek stared down at his lap but more out of reticence than real discomfort. "Do you make no distinction between courage and desperation, Dr. Weir?" he asked.
"I'd say that desperation often inspires people who might not have ever thought of themselves as courageous to do very courageous things," she answered diplomatically.
Radek answered her with a wry smile. "It is my experience that desperation leads to desperate acts," he said, "If one is lucky and the desperate act succeeds, then one is called a 'hero'. If, on the other hand, one is less fortunate, then it is a 'tragedy' or 'disaster' and one may be called a fool, or one may end up dead. Is only a matter of good or bad fortune, I fear."
"And you think that the two of you were just … lucky?" Dr. Weir asked, clearly implying that she thought differently.
"Very lucky," answered Radek, "also very foolish, and very, *very* desperate. I do not think, really, that I would have done what I did for anyone else. That is not what I would call courage."
Radek saw in Elizabeth Weir's green eyes and piercing gaze a seldom revealed wisdom, and she reached across her desk to lay her hand over his.
"No," she said quietly, "that's what I'd call love. What I'd call courage is when I see someone who continues to live by his convictions, in spite of everything happening around him, and when I see two people willing to take the enormous risk of caring for each other in an environment that's overtly hostile to such sentiments on a variety of levels. That's what I'd call courage."
Radek was back to staring down at his lap again. "You seem quite determined," he said after a moment, "to see me as a brave man, in spite of my best efforts."
"Your secrets are safe with me, Dr. Zelenka," she said sympathetically, "all of them. Don't worry."
And Radek wasn't worried, as he left Dr. Weir's office, in part because his relationship with Rodney had been something of an open secret from its very inception, and also because he and Rodney were both civilians, arguably the most indispensable civilians on Atlantis. Truth be told, he'd have been more worried about being known as a pacifist. In some respects it was nearly as likely to raise the ire of some of the military types as his preference in bed partners, and the two together, if known, could possibly prove deadly. He hadn't mentioned this in his report, however, and Rodney was the only person on Atlantis with whom he'd discussed his feelings in this regard.
Standing on the balcony outside Dr. Weir's office, overlooking the gate room that lay at the heart of the city, his city, Radek wondered if people *would* think of him differently, now that his exploits on Pretana were widely known. He didn't know, and he wasn't sure if he cared, because the one person whose opinion he didn't care about, more than anyone else's, didn't seem to think any differently about him at all.
Rodney McKay had seen him commit horrendous acts of violence, had heard him confess to be a pacifist, and neither of these things seemed to have changed the way Rodney thought of him at all. When he himself had not understood who he was, or how he could believe as he did and yet do what he had done, Rodney remained unsurprised, somehow seeing no contradictions. Radek still didn't really understand, but had decided that he could take himself on faith for now.
After all, if he ever lost himself again, he knew now for certain that Rodney would be able to find him, however far he had wandered, and bring him home once more.
=FIN=
© 2006 Taylor Dancinghands
***************
Whew!
Hope it was all worth it!
And now I will be taking a break from fanfic for a bit, as I promised to dedicate myself to my original stuff when the fall rains start, and they have.
I do have some challange ideas I may throw out at some point, and I will, of course, be reading, reading reading, any and all Rodney/Radek stuff I can find.
It's quite likely that I will produce one more fanfic over the winter holidays (I've got several ideas brewing), but other than that my writing time must be dedicated to my first novel, so that I'll ever actually get the thing done.
Assuming my life allows it, the fanfic muse will be let out to play for the summer again next year, and hopefully it will be as productive as this one!
T.D.